Descent
by Era Yachi
Summary: The evacuation of an endangered planet leaves Sheppard and McKay in a difficult position. Oneshot. Character death.


**_Descent_ **

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**Summary: **The evacuation of an endangered planet leaves Sheppard wondering if he can make the greatest sacrifice of all. Oneshot. Character death.

**AN: **You might have to read this a few times to understand some things. I won't say which things, since it might spoil the story. You have two eyes and a functional brain. Read! Thank you.

**Disclaimer: **Trust me, I learned about violating copyright laws the hard way. Ix-nay on the elonging-bay of the ow-shay to ee-may. Oo-bay a-yay.

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The elevator was used to evacuate the people. It carried medical supplies down into the labyrinthine city underground so that the seriously wounded could survive the departure. It was barely more than just a small, clunky box with a single glass wall six inches thick. It moved slower than molasses-covered snails on an uphill slope. It whined and creaked every inch of the way; up or down, it didn't matter. It saved lives. It was a damn miracle.

_Because of the radiation in the loading bay, entering its clutches was an inevitable attempt at suicide. But there was a task left undone, a matter of principle handed over from the workings of brilliant scientists into the capable hands of John Sheppard. _

They had challenged McKay with the impossible task of inventing a way to destroy or dismantle the hive ship before it could reawaken. Despite all their best efforts, however, it was their very presence in the underground community that did finally reawaken the dormant Wraith. Sheppard remembered taking the impossibly long ride down to the subterranean city, joking about bad elevator music and James Bond espionage stunts. The amount of time it took to go from the surface to the very bottom was outrageous.

_Imagine the time one would have to consider the fate that awaited him below._

So these were the reckless inhabitants of PT9-202 and their flawed technology; their flawed culture. Instead of planting a bomb inside their newly discovered, sleeping Wraith ship and blowing it out of existence, they opted to capture the Queen and kill her underlings. Then they had spent the next few hundred years building an industry, a _museum_ out of the ship's interior. In fact, the entire city seemed to be structured around the hive ship and the profits made by advertising their 'harmless' pet Wraith.

With the Queen incapacitated, they might have even continued to live their oblivious little lives under the surface of the planet, unaware that the Wraith all over the galaxy were reaping the lives of thousands of other, helpless worlds. John Sheppard and his team had changed this just by showing up.

He'd wanted Rodney to figure out a way to stop the hive ship from reawakening. Heck, they all wanted it to happen. But notwithstanding McKay's frequent reminders of how brilliant he was, there was no scientific method available to prevent a few hundred thousand Wraith from hearing the big alarm clock.

So when they awoke, he did the only plausible thing left: he strapped an atomic bomb to their ship.

That was McKay's contribution, anyhow. He even made this little remote—something with a decent range, that would detonate the nuke from several miles away. Sheppard would have had plenty of time to get clear of the blast before it turned the city into a crater. He would have, too, if the hive ship's engines hadn't suddenly switched on. The resulting radiation made it impossible to connect the remote to the nuclear explosive. And just like with many Armageddon-type movies, the ending of the story required someone to detonate the nuke manually.

It was a topic of controversy. Sheppard hadn't realized the decision to sacrifice his own life for the thousands of surface-dwelling inhabitants would be such a huge deal. Ronon thought it was pointless—that no matter what they did, the Wraith were going to eventually come to cull the planet anyway. Sheppard argued against him. The Wraith were never coming here—not if they thought it had been culled already. To the millions of other Wraith out there, PT9-202 should have been one of the first planets to be culled by the hive ship that should have woken several years ago, which it hadn't.

But it was now. And if they weren't stopped, they would cull the planet. And then they would move onto the next, defenseless world, and then the next, and the next, until the death count was unimaginable.

Sheppard knew it was worth it. He was happy with dying to save a few thousand lives, even if McKay thought it was the stupidest plan he'd ever heard. But then, the scientist never thought any of Sheppard's plans were good ones, unless they involved leaving all the decision-making up to him. That, of course, rarely happened. And now, because of the greatest sacrifice ever made by a member of the Atlantis expedition, they would never argue about making decisions again.

_Arguing with each other. He'd miss that the most. As if dead people could miss anything._

"Some plan this turned out to be, huh?" McKay said softly. They were sitting in the back of a Puddlejumper, en route to the place where they would part ways for the last time. He'd insisted on going—Ronon was injured, Teyla wasn't speaking to John, and Elizabeth was busy with diplomatic issues. It was only reasonable to send McKay.

Only reasonable.

"Figures," the scientist muttered. "How I'm the one who makes the bomb that _you _get to detonate and save the lives of countless thousands."

"You know, Rodney," John said with mild impatience. His body was stiff in reflection. "We could still trade. From now on, I'll make all the atomic weapons, and _you_ blow up the Wraith hive ship. "

"Oh, please. The idea of you even going _near_ a book about nuclear fusion is enough to give me nightmares."

"Well, then, don't be jealous."

"Jealous!" cried McKay, affronted. "How could I _possibly_ be jealous of someone who's about to blow himself up just on the _off chance_ the Wraith might go 'Hmm, we'll skip this planet because lunch special sold out,' hmm?"

"Rodney, we both know that there's a good chance the Wraith won't come back," the colonel droned, feeling as though he'd explained this a hundred times already. Maybe he had. "Even if they did, destroying this hive ship gives everyone on the surface a little more time to prepare. Heck, maybe we'll figure out a way to beat the Wraith by the time they decide to come back. One way or the other, I have to do this."

"No, you have to do this because of you have an insane martyr complex," argued the astrophysicist. "How am I supposed to live with myself knowing you're dead because something I created utterly failed?"

"You didn't know the Wraith's engines would interfere with the remote."

"Yes, but I should have _predicted_ something like that would happen. That's what I do, I'm supposed to calculate as many things that could possibly go wrong as I can."

"And you did. But despite what everyone might believe, McKay, you're not Superman."

Rodney glared at him. "Says you," he responded. He then stared at the floor of the Puddlejumper in reflection.

For a while, only the drone of the jumper's engines could be heard from the rear compartment of the ship. Lorne was at the front, wordlessly piloting them towards the open-air facility, where the main shaft led to the city underground. This gave Sheppard more than enough time to look back on the things he had done in a single day, the moments he'd had with friends, the arguments, and the goodbyes he never said. It was bad enough he had to watch McKay standing there, expecting a miracle to save him from the fate he had in mind. He really didn't want Elizabeth, Teyla or Ronon prolonging an almost certain death.

Scratch that. Certain death. Very certain death.

_Up until the last second, he knew he had done the right thing. Even if it meant losing more than he wanted to give up, it was still the right thing to do. He didn't know it would feel so empty, staring into the abyss that was death. No one had expected there to be a funeral at the end of the day, much less his. So yeah, even if it was wrong in the face of friendship and family, it was right for the people's lives on the surface of the planet. _

He felt surprisingly calm, letting himself believe that he was making a difference. In fact, he felt a little guilty. He'd cheated everyone else into thinking it was mere chance that he was the one chosen to make the last trip. When they'd wanted to draw straws, he had faked it. He'd cut the five stems of grass all the same length. When it came time for him to draw one from his closed fist, he'd squeezed his pinky finger and snapped off the lower half of the stem. Foolproof way of making sure none of his friends caught his contagious martyr disease.

Ronon was the only one who noticed, but then, he rarely overlooked anything. Good 'ol Ronon. He was probably the only one who understood what he was trying to do, even if he didn't approve of losing their team leader over a planet full of people stupid enough to make an exhibit out of a Wraith ship.

Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous. But as far as idiots went, Sheppard had known a lot. And he wouldn't hesitate a second to risk his life to save any one of theirs.

Jumper Three touched down on the craggy terrain outside the elevator shaft. As the rear hatch released and lowered to the ground, Sheppard noticed that McKay was not moving. He immediately knew that they were going to have an awkward moment, where they wouldn't be able to say what was on their minds without sounding embarrassingly emotional. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid the last time he'd run off to martyr himself for the sake of his friends. McKay still hadn't forgiven him for that.

_He hoped, when the end came, that he did. Before the explosion took him._

"McKay." Sheppard stopped before stepping out of the jumper. "You don't have to come."

Rodney looked up at him with an agonizingly besieged expression. "Yes," he said unsteadily. "I do."

The colonel felt an uncomfortable surge of affection for the scientist. He knew that what he was doing was going to tear his team apart, but he'd kind of been hoping they'd forgive him by now. I was all he really wanted before he died—forgiveness from his friends. It made the idea of going out with a bang seem a lot less appealing when you had to fight against the people you cared about the most.

"Sir," said Lorne, from outside the jumper. Slowly, Sheppard turned and walked down the ramp. He heard, rather than saw, McKay get up and follow him out into the open, under the skeletal framing of the unfinished loading bay.

Major Lorne stood at his post, watching as the two best friends moved towards the entrance to the underground city, knowing bleakly that only one would be coming back.

There was a bitter chill in the air as the planet itself answered their plight, seeming to know what kind of event was about to take place. A breeze tugged at their jackets, disheveled their hair and pressed at their backs, carrying the Air Force pilot and the Canadian scientist towards the point of no return. Sheppard locked gazes with the enormous metal contraption, a platform the size of an F-117A Nighthawk inside a glass cage—its only purpose, to travel upwards or down, depending on its designation. He'd be standing right there when he saw the last of his daylight.

The ground underfoot was starting to vibrate with the power of the charging Wraith ship. With silent deployment of personal thought and rumination, Sheppard stopped just in front of the large, impressive metal doors and turned around. McKay stood just a few meters away, staring at him with a somewhat glassy-eyed expression he'd seen once before. The slight constriction of his face, the drooped shoulders and his general quietness informed the colonel that the astrophysicist had already given him up for dead.

_Or so he had thought. _

A few seconds later, McKay opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He closed it again. Another moment passed. Finally, he managed to speak. "I guess…this is it."

"Yup," said Sheppard, his voice dry.

Blinking, Rodney fished in one of his pockets for a metal device, taking it out and passing it to the colonel. It was the arming key for the nuke. "Here," he said distantly, clearly trying to pretend he hadn't just handed over Sheppard's death. "You just, um…"

"Plug it in, turn it to the left, count to five and turn it again," finished Sheppard, picking the key out of the scientist's hand. "You already explained it to me, Rodney. Twice."

McKay swallowed, nodding awkwardly. "Right. So, uh…good luck, Colonel."

The unvoiced goodbye passed between them effortlessly. "Thanks," said John. "Take care, Rodney." He started to move away, to leave.

"Sheppard," McKay said abruptly, stopping him in mid-turn. Confused and somewhat irritated, the colonel regarded him with an inquiring look. "We…you and I, we're…" He seemed to struggle for the right word. "We're…friends, right?"

_The question, so out of place at the time, reminded Sheppard of the countless times he'd asked himself the exact same thing. But this was the last time he had to ask. He knew._

"Absolutely," he said with a cocky grin.

This obviously relaxed the astrophysicist. "Good," he said quietly, with sound affirmation. Then, without warning, he reached out and hugged him.

For a few seconds, John wasn't sure what to do. He knew McKay was capable of becoming an emotional wreck from time to time, but…something about the way he was acting felt wrong, like he was missing something…something extremely important.

So rather than saying anything, he patted the scientist's back and waited for McKay to release him. But he didn't.

"Good," Rodney repeated, sounding a great deal more confident about the word this time around. "Because I really need you to forgive me for this."

And that was it. A sharp, violent pang shot from a spot on the colonel's shoulder throughout his entire body. It knocked his breath out for an instant. Vaguely, he felt McKay release him and step back while he crumbled to his knees, entire limbs of his body going numb. When he tried to move his arms and legs, they only movement he achieved was a few, short jerks. It took most of his strength just to stay upright. The arming key rolled from his lax grip and dropped on the ground.

"What…the hell…" he gasped, looking straight at the guilt-stricken astrophysicist. His head and neck moved easily enough—it was just his body that wouldn't obey him.

"It's an NSP," McKay admitted shakily, avoiding eye contact. "Well, a prototype of one—it's…it's a device which injects a series of harmless toxins into you system and, well, I wasn't exactly…planning on testing it yet, I just…it's only a temporary paralysis, so you should be…fine." Cautiously, he crouched down and retrieved the key from beside the colonel's knee.

It was at that moment it occurred to him what McKay was doing.

But he had to ask.

"Rodney," he whispered menacingly. "Rodney, what _hell_ are you doing?"

The scientist didn't reply. He moved past the immobile colonel. Sheppard tried to reach out and grab him, but his arm only flailed numbly in the wrong direction. Grimacing his frustration, he thrust his weight around so that he collapsed onto his elbows. He managed to crawl a few inches in the direction of the elevator, but the more he moved, it seemed the paralysis spread more quickly and efficiently.

McKay's footsteps thudding against the raw soil changed into muted, hollow bangs as he stepped onto the platform. Grunting with the effort, John pulled himself forwards until he was propped against one of the large, iron columns surrounding the giant lift.

When he looked, he saw McKay standing in the center of the platform. He was smiling—the goddamned bastard was _smiling_ at him. It was a sad, lost, wounded puppy kind of smile, but it was definitely a sign that McKay had been planning this from the start. Damn it!

Exhaling serenely, Rodney reached out and struck something on the console inside the glass door. As it began to close, he timidly half-raised an arm and waved. "So long, Sheppard."

"McKay!" he roared, as the doors sealed shut. "Rodney, don't you _do_ this! _Rodney_!"

The elevator groaned and clanked melodiously, slowly lowering the glass box and its single occupant towards the cavernous pit below. Sheppard bellowed after it, to no effect. The last glimpse he had of the scientist was of that sad, wistfully smiling expression of a man who knew his fate had been sealed.

And was glad for it.

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Caldwell was about to make contact with Sheppard on the surface, when an engineer informed him that they were receiving a message from Dr. McKay.

"Patch him through, lieutenant," he said, fully expecting to hear the cantankerous scientist start berating him for some fault or flaw they had encountered with the plan.

Instead, he heard this:

"_Colonel, who I'm going…assume I'm speaking to—this message wi…brief and to the point," _said Dr. McKay, in broken bits of static and sarcasm. "_If you wan…oth Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne to live…fully appreciate me for what I'm doing right now, you nee...lock onto their positions and beam them onto the Daedalus right _now_. In just a few min… radiation will make it impossible for the Asg…lock…system to be very effect.._._Unfortunately, it also makes it impossible for th… convers…to travel _both _ways. Seeing as the Daedalus is barely even at…minimum power, I suggest forgetting about try…to lock onto me and focus on those you _can _save."_

Caldwell was already reacting before the message was halfway through. "Dr. Novak?" he inquired sternly, to the young woman waiting with Hermiod in engineering.

"_No good, Colonel. We've got Major Lorne and Colonel Sheppard, but we can't get a fix on Dr. McKay wthl the interference underground. If we had a few minutes, maybe—"_

"We don't have a few minutes, doctor!" growled Caldwell.

Meanwhile, McKay's message was coming to a close. "_You can tell Radek he's…ficially been promoted. And tell…tell Elizabeth I'm sorry. No, actually, don't say that, just…just tell everyone this message didn't get through. In fact, pret…ever even happened." _There was a brief pause willed with the distant sound of creaking and clattering. "_And_ _Sheppard…I hope…this doesn't...ange our friendship."_

The entire bridge had gone still, and was listening intently, even wide-eyed at the message as the frightened scientist said his indirect goodbyes.

"_This is Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay,"_ said the fizzing transmission. "_Goodbye."_

There was a burst of static, and then abrupt silence. No one spoke a word. The first one to utter a sound was one of the technicians sitting at the controls in front of the command chair.

"Sir, sensors are detecting…a massive explosion under the surface of the planet," she announced softly. The image flickered onto the screen, displaying the green-and-brown surface of the planet from their place in orbit. A colossal, fiery speck appeared under the clouds, mixed with the massive dust cloud cause by the detonation.

The silence continued.

Caldwell sighed and sunk into his chair. After a moment, he ordered someone to open communication to Atlantis. It opened. He waited.

"This is Caldwell. We're one our way home. Inform..." The lines in his face deepened. "Tell Dr. Weir that I'd like to have a private conversation with her when we arrive."

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End file.
